Demigod Glory
by gemrocks
Summary: Sometimes things can be hard in life. Everyone knows that. You just need someone to help you. Mélae learns that she needs wings to help her fly, rather than fall if she wants to get away from her past. And there is someone who has a difficult life like her.


Authors` Notes:

(PhantomWhispers) **Welcome to the Prologue! This is a story written in cooperation with gemrocks! So thank gemrocks and read ThyHuntress's fanfictions! Please read and review! Helpful criticism is fully appreciated! Thanks!**

(gemrocks) _Hi guys, so alright—PhantomWhispers and I have decided to partner with each other in a story. In each chapter, there will be the _Authors` Notes_, in which is a note from both of us. Mine will be in _italics _and PhantomWhispers will be in _**bold**.

_Thank you and review._

_Also, to see our other stories, visit our profiles._

_PhantomWhispers: u/4008150/PhantomWhispers  
_

_gemrocks: u/3618458/gemrocks#_

_**We do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians**_

**PROLOGUE**

I never realized what a messed up person I was. Soon after my parents—my stepmother and father—had died, and nothing was left for me, there hadn`t been anyone from the orphan homes that would take me in. But it was strange how they did that for some unknown reason.

Back then, I was just a seven year old girl that they left to rot in the streets. In those years, I had never felt so close to death.

After all the pain I started to go through, I had begun to make rash decisions that have changed my life forever. After I had heard the news of my parents` death, I deemed to leave my old life. I had taken off to the streets as an outcast. Very few people had accepted me for who I was, and the only people who had—and still are—were in gangs. I was in so much grief; I never gave myself any boundaries to follow. So…I did drugs.

Life was hard as a kid. No one actually showed me true compassion, because they only found me as an orphan gang member. Sure, being in the gangs gave me rank and money, but it never did me any good. So I just left them in the streets and moved on.

Life was definitely harder living alone on the streets. Being in the gangs had given me a few things, and I was smart enough to take my belongings. But one can only live so long on limited supplies.

I had an iPhone that I had stolen, a liter of water, two pairs of clothes, drawing materials I had as a child, a thin book, a toiletry bag, $5,000 in cash, but my most proud possession I had was a cold black dagger I hung on my neck, emanating chills and austerity on my chest. No one survives that long with that few items, even with a dagger, in which I did know how to use.

Sure, the money helped a lot, but today I am left with only a hundred dollars and no will. My emaciated body gets thinner each and every day. Only the fates know how much longer I may survive, or maybe even they don't know. With my luck, only Moros would know, because he is the Greek god of doom.

In the sight of death, you learn to forgive and forget the past and to get the best of your life. Err, the rest of your life. I am now free of gangs and drugs, but the burden of hardships is still with me. Yeah, cursing and pessimism is bad, but what can I say? I am just a rebel on the run.

I am now thirteen. Even though I have just become a teenager, my experiences are probably greater than your average snobby adult. I have changed so much since my gangster youth. My identity has practically been lost. I hardly even know who I am now or even where I'm from!

All I know is that I am a freaking orphan on the street, living of "nature". I may go to school, but that doesn't mean I am normal. They are out there, waiting. I hide in the shadow, waiting for them to come. And they will do. I have gone through too much.

What are my aspirations in life? That is something you may ask. Well, for starters—surviving. The losers—who have nothing better to do than pick on the young girls living on the streets—always come, drooling, just plain asking for a fight that I must get in to. They may seem to lose, but as I said, they come back for the fight. It is only one day until you lose, and no one is looking forward to that day. No one, I tell you.

My recollections of life may seem startling, but as I said, we're just orphans hanging out on the street. We are truly different, but there are more of us. And we know who we and they are. We are the demigods of the 21st century.

End Author`s Note:

(gemrocks) _So, how is it? Please tell us in a review. The next chapter will be written by me. This chapter was written by PhantomWhispers. I just corrected it. The process will continue that way. Chapter 3 by PhantomWhispers, then Chapter 4 by me, etc. Well, thank you for reading, and review.-smiles in glee, then gives you threatening grin- :D-in a singsong voice-Please?_

**SNEAK** **PEEK of CHAPTER** **ONE**** :**_  
_

It wasn't that strange that I was the only one in my dorm that was up so early in the morning, because my rising every day is always when the sky is still dark. For me, it was a habit…or more like an instinct. That was what made me stranger to the other students. They never bothered to talk to me, but I don't care about that. I'm used to being lonely.

Careful to not wake up the other six girls sleeping in the room, I pushed off the rough, canvas-like covers, and slipped out of the lower bunk I slept in. My feet slipped into a pair of beaten, dirty slippers. This academy wasn't exactly the most fancy.

After glancing back at Adrian, a young girl who slept on the top bunk above me, and made sure she was still asleep, I opened the door. It made a small creak, but nothing more than that, and—definitely—not enough to wake anyone up. So I slipped outside and into the dark hallway.

The only light in the long foyer was the dim, circular shaped lamps hanging on the smooth ceiling. And even that was flickering.

With a small sigh, I strolled across the soft carpeting, making my way to a corner where it led to another hallway that continued to a maze of the same thing.

If you were new here, you would've gotten lost with all the turns and deep corners, so it had been a good thing I was not new. Four years being here made me act smart. It made me understand that I had to learn my way around. If I wanted to have a chance at an innovative life, I'd have to follow rules that weren't written, but only skillful people knew. And, in some ways, you could say I was skillful.

By the time I reached a dark red door that led me to a deserted area, cold was already sweeping into my nightwear. It hadn't affected me much like it would've to a _normal _kid, but I still felt chills.


End file.
